


What Shall Be My Reward?

by xcourtney_chaoticx



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Military Backstory, Nazi Imagery (Canon Compliant), The First Order is Pretty Awful, character history
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-17 01:38:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5848912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xcourtney_chaoticx/pseuds/xcourtney_chaoticx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finn, integral to the Resistance victory at Starkiller Base, is offered a reward for his heroics by General Organa. Unable to think of one himself, Poe offers an idea, but like many of Poe's ideas, it may not be so well thought out...</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Shall Be My Reward?

**Author's Note:**

> Because the First Order is based on the ideas of Nazi imagery, I did some research for this one on what children would have been taught as far as Nazi propaganda during that regime. These include Lebensborn programs, Hitlerjugend, Deutches Junvolk, and the Germanization performed on stolen children (largely from Poland.)

“You’ve been a big help to us, Finn,” General Organa told him in the Resistance base hospital, “If there’s anything we can do for you, anything at all, I’d like for you to let me know personally.”

That gave Finn a lot to think about. Anything? He searched his mind for days and days, trying to think of something that she would see as a suitable reward. They had already welcomed him into the Resistance, so he didn’t have to ask for that. He had friends, a place to stay, something to do with his life. There was nothing else he could think of to ask for.

Finn was staying with Poe in his quarters, at Poe’s behest, and it seemed to Finn he could’ve asked for that as reward had he not already been given it. Poe was kind and lovely and warm. He didn’t push Finn to talk or to do anything he was uncomfortable with. Together, the two of them would sit in Poe’s quarters or out by _Black One_ while Poe made repairs. Finn was slowly learning binary from BB-8, as well. They usually ate in the large mess, but sometimes they would retreat into Poe’s quarters for a quiet dinner with just the two of them. Finn liked those nights very much. He and Poe would sit quietly and simply chat about any little thing that came to mind.

“Hey, Finn… can I ask you something?” Poe asked one afternoon.

“Yeah. Anything.”

“Well, it’s just-… I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or feel like you hafta answer me.”

“I can’t decide that if I don’t know what the question is.”

Poe chewed his lip, fidgeted a bit, finally asked, “What was it really like? In the First Order? What was your training like? Remember, you don’t hafta answer.”

Finn thought about it for a long moment.

“The First Order is really all I’ve ever known,” he replied matter-of-factly, “I was taken by them when I was a baby. I don’t know where I came from, who my parents were, nothing. The day they took me, they gave me a serial number and a date of birth. Nothing else. I don’t know why they picked me, why they pick any of the infants. They keep them all in a crèche, looked after by medidroids and doctors, but any signs of weakness are quickly stamped out. They’re never held or comforted if they’re crying… just… they survive or they don’t.”

Poe looked horrified, but he asked a question, and Finn was determined to give him an answer. Finn spoke on.

“They always play propaganda in the crèche, and when most kids on a civilized planet would start school, stormtroopers begin learning about the glory of the Old Empire and the First Order. Everything we did was to promote our complete obedience to the First Order. We were taught to read and write with propaganda, even, and we started doing exercise to prepare for our training. 

“At ten, the real training started. They started putting us through different scenarios to see what we might be good at, began training with blasters and hand-to-hand combat and stuff like that. By fifteen, they start training us in different positions, like pilots and ground troops, and we get more in-depth training. Again, all throughout this training, anyone deemed unworthy was weeded out. There was constant propaganda. We heard messages from the generals about how depraved and horrible the New Republic was, how they let chaos run rampant, how they lied to the people of the Republic. They played us morale sessions, really just recorded vids of stormtroopers violently putting down any insurrection in the name of order.

“Most of our combat training was done in simulators. They would run scenarios to try and desensitize us to violence, to killing innocent civilians under the guise of upholding order. For a while, I was one of the best stormtroopers they had because I knew it wasn’t real. I could go through the scenarios knowing they weren’t real, so it was easy. The first time I was deployed and ordered to kill… I realized I wasn’t playing a game anymore. They were real beings, and they were really dying because of what we were doing. Honestly, Poe… the first beings I ever killed were stormtroopers when we escaped in the TIE fighter. I couldn’t kill any of the villagers at Tuanul-“

“You were at Tuanul?”

“Yes… but I didn’t hurt anyone. I couldn’t do it.”

Poe’s expression was hard to read, and Finn hated it. BB-8 beeped softly at Poe. The silence between them hung heavy in the air until Finn decided to break it.

“Y’know, I’d never been in a hospital before. The hospitals on the _Finalizer_ and Starkiller were for officers only. Grunts like me… well, like I said before, the weak got weeded out. If you were too wounded or weak to do your job, you weren’t of value anymore, and they disposed of you-“

“Stop!”

Poe wasn’t looking at him. He was shaking, standing halfway across the room, arms folded in front of his body as if protecting himself. The uncomfortably heavy silence was back, only punctuated by Poe’s shaky breaths and BB-8’s quiet sounds. A long moment passed before Poe turned and came back to Finn’s side, his eyes wet but determined, cheeks damp, gripping Finn’s hands in his own.

“I’m sorry,” Finn whispered, “I-I didn’t mean to-“

“Don’t be sorry, buddy. You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one that should be sorry, making you-“

“You didn’t make me do anything. I wanted to tell you all that.”

Poe simply looked at him for a long moment before pulling him into an embrace, just holding him, and Finn hugged back. He liked hugging, he found. Finn rested his cheek on Poe’s shoulder, breathing even and deep.

“Do-? Do you ever wonder about your family?” Poe whispered.

“Sometimes,” Finn answered honestly, “Sometimes I wonder if they’re still out there, if they miss me, if they ever even think of me… if they gave me up willingly or if I was taken forcibly. Most of the time, though, I just don’t think about it.”

“Would you want to look for them, if we could find a way?”

Poe pulled back from the embrace to look at Finn. He wasn’t joking.

“If there was a way… maybe. But we don’t know enough about me. All we know is that I’m a human male, aged twenty-three standard years, and my birth date is 17.3.11 ABY. That’s not a lot to go on.”

“I know someone who may be able to help. She’s something like diplomatic, helps us get supplies and the like, but she’s certainly not above dealing with some of the shadier elements to get what she wants. I’ve known her for ages. C’mon…”

He led Finn through the maze of root-lined corridors and the main control station back to a series of small rooms purposed as private offices. They walked to almost the end of the row, to the office adjacent to General Organa’s. The sign on the door read ‘Colonel Breha Antilles, Logistics.’

Finn had expected to see someone of General Organa’s age. This woman was young, of an age between Finn’s and Poe’s. Her skin was a light brown, a shade darker than Poe, with dark brown hair she wore in a style similar to General Organa’s, long twists wrapped like a crown. She wore the same simple uniform as all officers as she typed away on a personal computer.

“Poe,” she greeted, barely taking her eyes off the screen, “What can I do for you today?”

“Breha, I was hoping you could help me with a favor.”

She stopped typing, fixed him with an exasperated look, said, “If you damaged _Black One_ again, I’m running out of places to get parts-“

“No, it’s not for _Black One_. The favor is for Finn here.”

Colonel Antilles fixed her golden-brown gaze on Finn now, no longer looked exasperated, seemed somehow to look through him.

“Certainly. Please, sit. I’ve heard a great deal about you, Finn, about your bravery and loyalty to your friends… how you haven’t asked for anything in return.”

“I haven’t been able to think of anything to ask for. The Resistance has already given me everything I could imagine.”

“Until now, apparently. Please, Finn, tell me what I can do for you.”

“Listen, Breha,” Poe spoke up, “We know it’s a long shot, but we were hoping we’d be able to find Finn’s family.”

“Is this the favor for you, Finn?”

Finn and Poe both nodded. Colonel Antilles sighed.

“It’s more than a long shot,” she replied, “Finn, you’re by no means the first stormtrooper to defect, but you’re the most public. Others have found new homes after being left for dead and saved by locals, however, none have been successful in locating their families, and almost none are willing to discuss their time in the First Order for fear of reprisals. The information you’re looking for, if available, would only be located in the First Order archives under ever layer of computer security imaginable.”

Finn did not react; Poe ducked his head. He hadn’t gotten his hopes up, so he wasn’t terribly disappointed, at least. In fact, Poe seemed more upset about the unlikelihood of finding Finn’s family than Finn. Colonel Antilles sighed again.

“I may have a contact who can help, though. He’s a former stormtrooper of the Empire, a bit older now, works as a Slicer. If anyone can help, he can. I’ll contact him for you. Now, the only promise I am making is that I’ll contact him. I cannot promise he’ll be able to locate any information at all, and I cannot promise that if he does find anything, it’ll be good. I can only promise to talk to him.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Finn replied, shaking her hand, “It’s more than enough. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. Poe, may I speak with you alone for a moment?”

Finn stepped out into the corridor, and no one seemed to notice the door didn’t entirely close behind him.

“Poe, was this your idea?” Colonel Antilles asked, her voice almost angry.

“Don’t give me that look, Breha-“

“I’ll give you whatever look I please. This search is foolishness, and you know it. I have been around the galaxy a time or two, and the rumors aren’t very good where this type of thing is concerned. Just-… you haven’t thought this through, Poe.”

“I have. We have.”

“Oh, have you? Really? What if his family is dead?”

“Then they’re dead. That’s that.”

“And what if they’re alive?”

Finn’s heart gave a funny flop, and silence reigned in the small room.

“That’s what I thought,” Colonel Antilles spoke up after a moment, “You’re imagining a happy, tear-filled reunion like in the holovids when we both know it probably won’t be like that. What if his family gave him up willingly to be a stormtrooper? What if they’re sympathizers and decide to turn him? What if he was stolen but they don’t want to see him anyway because it’s too painful? You haven’t thought this through, and you’re going to have to prepare him for the worst.”

“You’re a ray of sunshine, Breha. A real optimist.”

“I’m a realist.”

Finn pretended he hadn’t heard anything when Poe emerged, and Poe said nothing of what he and Colonel Antilles talked about. A week passed before Poe told him any of it, only skimmed the surface of what was said, and Finn took it all in carefully. It was a long shot, after all, and Colonel Antilles said she was not making any promises. Finn told him, “I’m not even sure if I would want to meet them. I guess… I guess I just wanna know what happened to them, y’know?”

“I do. I understand.”

They’re called to meet with Colonel Antilles that same day.

“My contact finally got back to me. He managed to get some information,” she explained gently, “and it’s not good. He dug through the First Order records as best he could,” she pulled out her datapad, “He found a record of a child matching your description and date of birth being taken from a planet called Zosha in the Unknown Region along with a number of others. This child was given the serial number FN-2187.”

“That was my serial number,” Finn said.

“Then you are the child from Zosha. My contact also informed me that standard practice when taking in future recruits is to kill the family in order to alienate the future recruit.”

Poe blanched beside him, gave a small gasp, said, “Tha-That’s horrible.”

“It is,” Colonel Antilles agreed, “but from a tactical standpoint, it makes sense. If the future recruit has no family to go back or to look for them, then their only family becomes the other stormtroopers of the First Order and strengthens their loyalty.”

“That sounds like the First Order,” Finn nodded.

Such a philosophy went well with the endless propaganda they were force fed since infancy. He sighed quietly, resigned to the information.

“So… I had a family, but they’re dead.”

“Yes… apparently left in an unmarked, mass grave on Zosha.”

Finn said nothing, unsure of what he was feeling, of what he should feel. Poe placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, telling him, “Finn, I’m sorry. This isn’t the outcome I wanted.”

“It’s alright. It’s alright, Poe… I just wanted to know what happened.”

“If it’s okay with you, Finn, I’d like to share this information with General Organa. It’s important for the Resistance to know things like this in order to undermine the First Order in the eyes of the galactic community… not that the destruction of the Hosnian System hasn’t done that already, but this will help.”

“I’m always happy to share information with the General.”

Finn and Poe left so Colonel Antilles could meet with General Organa (who Finn learned was something like Colonel Antilles’ aunt). They went back to Poe’s quarters. Poe started dinner. Neither spoke, not knowing what to say or how the other felt or anything like that. Finn still wasn’t entirely sure what he was feeling. He shouldn’t feel disappointment because he knew there was no way this search was going to end happily. He shouldn’t feel sad because he didn’t even know them. He couldn’t feel surprised or shocked because, deep down, he knew that was what the First Order did. BB-8 watched him, suddenly beeped frantically at Poe.

“What?” Poe yelped, turning from the small kitchen, “Oh my-… Finn, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. Why?”

“You’re crying. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Finn reached up and touched his cheek, shocked to find moisture there. He hadn’t noticed. He looked at Poe, whose earth brown eyes were so full of sadness and love and concern, who had grown up with a family who loved him, who would never understand what Finn and others like him had been subjected to from birth. An overwhelming emptiness engulfed him, a yawning chasm in his chest where love and family belonged. The nothingness hurt more than any pain ever had. Something thick lodged in Finn’s throat, and he choked on it. Poe’s hands gripped his, calloused and loving and calming.

“Please, tell me what’s wrong, Finn,” Poe whispered.

“I-I-… I wish you never had to know what’s happened to me,” he choked, “never had to know the-the horrors of the First Order like this… never had to know this kind of darkness.”

Tears shined in Poe’s eyes, and he pulled Finn closer to him, pressing their foreheads together.

“In a way, I’m glad I know what happened to you,” Poe whispered, “It’s sad and horrible and awful, but I’m glad I know it so I can fix it. I want to make you happy. I want you to be happy.”

Finn didn’t trust himself to speak, his lip trembling, his breaths increasingly short and gasping. Poe went on speaking in that soft, gentle tone, “I want you to be happy… to know you’re free, to know you can do anything you want, be anything you want… most of all, I want you to know you’re loved. Rey loves you, and the General and Chewie and Beebee-Ate… and I love you, too.”

Something shifted violently inside Finn. The emptiness began to fill up with something warm and beautiful, and for the first time in his life, Finn cried, really cried. He cried until he was exhausted, held in Poe’s arms, cradled against his chest.

“Hey now… it’s okay, Finn… you’re gonna be okay…”

Finn believed him.

**Author's Note:**

> Before I get complaints, I know that Breha Antilles was Leia's adoptive mother. Queen Breha had a sister named Deara who attempted to betray her to Vader, and so Deara was banished to a planet called Ankori-7. I'm imagining this Breha as Deara's granddaughter, named after her great-aunt and brought into the Resistance by Leia.


End file.
